Dead Man's Party: The Ghost in the Machine
by WitchGirl
Summary: Archie receives strange and frightening messages and video on his computer. This spurs him to venture to a cemetery at night, to "dig up" a little evidence. But is Archie just digging his own grave? #2 in the Dead Man's Party Horror/Urban Legends series.
1. Hackers

**_Summary:_** When Archie's computer starts giving him tips about solving a cold case from the '90s, he thinks Hodges is behind it. But the information turns out to be frighteningly accurate, and might lead Archie to a truth much darker than one dead prostitute.

**_Author's Note:_** Many Halloweens ago, I began a series of CSI one-shots meant to be collected in an anthology I'd called "Dead Man's Party." Their uniting factor was the use of supernatural urban legends and publication on or around Halloween. The first of these was "The Wendigo," and that can be found on my profile under the title: "Dead Man's Party: The Wendigo." I abandoned and revised many of my original story ideas, and this was the second to come out of that endeavor. Due to its length, I quickly realized it couldn't be a one-shot, as it was far too long. I decided to archive it on FFN under its own title, but still connected to the anthology by its name. Consider this the second installment in this anthology, just in time for Halloween. It will be posted in a total of four chapters, every other day.

_**Reviews and Comments:**_ If this story has no interest, there's no point in me posting the rest of this. So please, if you read this story, drop me a line and let me know you're reading. This is a repost, mostly due to a poor proof-editing job on my part, which has now been resolved after reading it again and having my dependable beta, LaughableBlackStorm, read it over for me. So make this repost count - tell me what you think.

**_Time Line:_** This story is meant to take place in October of 2010, or the beginning of season 11.

* * *

><p><span>The Ghost in the Machine<span>

"_For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak with most miraculous organ._" Hamlet, 2.2.594

Chapter One: Hackers

"I want to show you something."

Hodges and Wendy exchanged looks at the goofy expression on Archie's face as he said the words.

"So show us," said Hodges, simply.

"It's in the AV lab—you have to see it!" And he took off.

Both a bit skeptical, Hodges and Wendy followed the eager tech down the hall and into his lab. The lights were off, as was every single monitor but one, which was flickering strange scenes, filled with grays and blues. Once or twice, a shadow would look sinister, or the hue would turn bloody.

"Is this evidence?" Wendy asked.

"Or a virus?" Hodges presumed.

"Never seen a virus do this," Archie replied as he stood behind them. "I was trying to shut down the machines for the night, but when I hit shutdown… it started showing this."

Wendy was mesmerized by the monitor. She stared at it for what felt like ages until she was certain she could make out rows of shelves in a library or a store, and what looked like a person, two people, flickering on the screen in stills. At one point, they seemed to jump out at her and she gasped and instinctively latched on to the nearest thing to her, which happened to be Hodges' arm.

Hodges, for his part, seemed startled by the contact, judging by the jerking motion he made when she grabbed him.

"Archie…" Wendy said slowly, her eyes never leaving the monitor. "Do you see—"

There was a loud scream and someone grabbed her shoulder, fingers digging into it and she heard Hodges give out a girlish shriek.

She blinked as she found herself staring at Henry, who had jumped out from behind the computer wearing a matted black wig and white makeup. It had been him who had screamed, after he'd jumped out at them of course, and Archie who had snatched her shoulder from behind.

As the two pranksters burst out laughing, Wendy's jaw dropped in shock and fury as she glared at the pair of them. She noticed that the monitor was back to normal as Archie closed the video file.

"Dude," Archie panted. "Those were just some random visual static. You guys watched it like it was _porn_!"

On her right, Wendy noticed that Hodges had turned beet red, and she wasn't sure if it was from humiliation or rage, or perhaps a bit of both.

"I don't have time for this!" he blustered before turning on his heel and marching out of the lab. His reaction only seemed to make Henry and Archie laugh even harder.

Wendy, who was normally brimming with witty retorts, was at a loss for words. She frowned and gave both of them the best _death stare_ she could muster. It got to Henry first, who immediately sobered up, but Archie continued to chuckle. It gave her time to think of something to say.

"You two, we have jobs to do, you know? Hodges is right, we don't have time for this. Henry, I know for a _fact_ that you are backlogged with that poison case of Catherine's and that suspicious suicide of Nick's. Get your ass back on task and work that out, or it'll be your head on a platter, do you hear me?"

Her death stare probably would have been enough, but the threat made Henry yelp, tear off his wig and scurry out of the AV lab, which just left the AV tech, who was gasping for air after laughing for so long.

"As for _you_," she sneered.

Archie rolled his eyes and waved her harsh tones away. "Oh, don't be such a spoil sport. You'd have laughed too, if I'd asked _you_ to play Henry's role. But somehow, I thought it would be funnier if Henry dressed up like the chick from _The Ring_. You're more of a Carrie anyway, aren't you? Be grateful I decided _against_ the pig's blood."

Wendy's eyes narrowed. She would never admit that the sight of Henry in a wig did make her smile. "If I _was_ Carrie, you would _so_ be on fire right now."

She started to leave, then stopped at the doorway. "And don't expect me to cover for you when Greg asks for his surveillance footage of that convenience store."

Archie was still grinning as he watched Wendy stomp furiously down the hall. The joke was on her. He'd finished scanning Greg's security tapes hours ago, and there was nothing useful on it. Not even the reflection of a license plate in the glass, because the crooks had covered it with cardboard. Tough luck for Greg's case, easy night for Archie.

He was just about to turn back to the computer and do a little web surfing when someone knocked on his door. He looked up to see a sweet young thing with wavy blonde hair. She was wearing a lab coat and held a clipboard.

"Excuse me," she said in a girlish voice with the hint of roughness to it. "I'm looking for the fingerprint lab? I'm filling in for…" She looked at her clipboard. "Amanda while she's on vacation."

Archie realized his mouth was dry because his jaw had been hanging open. He closed it and licked his lips. "Oh, yeah, right, hi." He fumbled to his feet and greeted her with a smile. "I'm Archie, the AV tech. I'll do anything you need. I mean, if you need anything I'll do it to you— _for_ you."

She smiled, somewhat shyly. "Thank you, that's very sweet. My name is Libby."

"Welcome to the Las Vegas Crime Lab, Libby," Archie said. He leaned out the door and pointed down the hall. "Actually, the fingerprint lab is just down that way. Where the woman with the curly brown hair is. That's Jacqui, you'll get along great."

"Ah, yes, I see now," said Libby.

"I could walk you there, if you like," Archie chimed, a little too eagerly.

This time, Libby chuckled. "Oh, thank you, but I think I can manage a few feet."

Archie tilted his head as he watched her head off down the hall and turn into Mandy's lab. He saw her wave and say something to Jacqui, but the tech was so immersed in her work, she didn't manage to look up to respond. _Typical_, Archie thought. Jacqui had always been rather antisocial.

Archie slid back into his lab and fell into his office chair, making it slide backwards on its wheels a little bit. He stared at the familiar LVPD desktop background and pondered his next move. He pulled the chair up to the computer and on a whim, decided to check the surveillance footage from Greg's case again. Even _he_ was known to miss things, and it was good to be thorough.

Just as he was pulling up the file, he received an instant message. Archie scanned the icons at the bottom right corner of his screen, but he didn't see any message programs open. Still, the message blinked at him from his menu bar. Thinking it was spam, Archie clicked on it.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>Hello.<em>

Archie blinked. He was bored, but not curious enough to indulge in exploring spam that was possibly a virus. He closed the instant message and opened up YouTube. It wasn't long before the spam returned.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>I have something to show you.<em>

A link followed. Archie blinked at the message. Judging by the handle, he figured it was an ad for a porn site or escort service. Yeah, right, he wasn't falling for that sort of thing, and definitely not at work. He clicked the X in the corner.

_Are you sure you want to close this instant message conversation?_ YES - CANCEL

Archie clicked yes. Another text box popped up.

_You're going to want to see this video, Archie_. YES - CANCEL

Archie pushed himself away from the computer. He looked around, trying to see signs of Hodges or Wendy, perhaps trying to prank him back for what he'd done to them. He could see Wendy across the way, talking to Sara. And Hodges looked busy with some trace evidence.

Curious, Archie pulled himself closer to the computer again. His mouse hovered over the cancel button. He clicked it gingerly.

The minute he did, his web browser loaded. The only thing visible was a video. The scene was dark and hard to make out. And then, the picture brightened and he could see it clear as day. A girl sat at a table in what appeared to be a library, smoothing her short red skirt. She wore black rimmed glasses, and her brown hair hung in two braided pigtails. Her white blouse was unbuttoned, revealing a fair bit of cleavage.

"Aw, Christ!" Archie cursed. "It _is_ porn!" He wrinkled his nose. "And _old_ porn!" The quality was grainy and the colors were faded. Once in a while, a white line flickered and floated upwards across the screen.

He tried to click exit, convinced that somehow a porn virus had contaminated the system. Ecklie was going to be _so mad_ at him! But no matter how many times he clicked, the video wouldn't go away. He furiously stood up, kicking over his chair. The wheels spun hopelessly in the air. Archie hit the power button, but the computer remained on. The girl was talking to someone.

"So… how does this work… exactly?" she said. The quality of the video made her voice sound warbled.

Archie tried to force quit the program.

"I pay you. You do everything I say."

"You mean, like… the sex?"

The man laughed. "It's really not that hard to understand, sweetheart."

Archie rolled his eyes, then looked for where this computer was plugged in. He started at the back of the CPU.

"Yeah, but, I don't know…" She squirmed in her chair. "You gonna pay me now?"

A man came into view. His back was to the camera. "You _really_ haven't done this before, have you? Here I was thinking you were just playing a part. I pay you when I'm satisfied."

Archie followed the cord back, to a mess of other cords from other machines. He grumbled and blew away the dust, diving into the nest of wires.

On the video, the girl looked sharply away from the looming man. "I… I need the money."

He sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee, but his head was still out of view. "I told you, you'll get it." He put a hand on the back of her head and guided her down towards his lap. "If I get what I need."

Archie found the cord and muttered a silent _Eureka_ before yanking it out of the wall.

The shriek cut shrilly through the air and Archie sat up so fast he knocked his head under the table. It sounded as if it had come from that room. He scrambled out from under the table and looked all around himself. It was as if the cord he had unplugged powered everything else in that room _except _for the monitor he was trying to turn off. Even the overhead lights were dark, as the eerie glow of the monitor filled the room.

One image remained on the screen. The light came and went, as if an incandescent bulb swung above the hideous image. It was the girl in the library. Her face was inches away from the lens of the camera, which seemed to have fallen onto the floor. Her eyes were wide and bulging, and her face was pale and her temple red. A tiny river of blood trickled out of her mouth. What made it worse, the image was in crystal clear high definition.

And then, the computer went off. Archie was left alone in the dark. He could feel his heart rattling in his chest, but he showed no fear. He glanced around the room again, waiting for someone to jump out and say BOO so that he could tell them that joke wasn't funny. Not at all.

And then, the lights came back on. The computers rebooted. All but the one he had unplugged. Out the windows, people walked the halls as if they hadn't seen or heard anything from the AV Lab.

Archie closed his dry mouth, which he hadn't realized had been open, swallowed, and licked his lips.

"Whoo!" he sighed, raking both hands through his hair before righting the chair he had overturned and sitting on it. He looked at the unplugged monitor, as if waiting for it to flicker back to life with the haunting face of that girl. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing her. And the more he dwelled on the image, the more familiar she seemed, as if he had known her at some point, in another life.

He shook his head to clear it and logged on to another machine. He told himself it was because the first one he was using had a virus, and that he couldn't turn it back on without risking the entire system. This satisfied him a little. And for a while, nothing happened.

And then, Sunshine came back.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>Hello.<em>

Archie wasn't sure what to do. If the virus had spread, it was too late. Last time, he had closed the instant message. Is that what had triggered the spread of the virus? He decided to ignore it while he pulled up some antivirus tools.

But then, the virus spoke again.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>What did you think of the video?<em>

Archie pursed his lips and analyzed his antivirus settings.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>I'm not a virus, Archie.<em>

Archie looked at the message, and the blinking cursor in the response box. His fingers hit the keyboard.

**_ArchieJ says_**_  
>WTF was that?<em>

For a moment, he hoped it wouldn't respond.

**_Sunshine94 says_**  
><em>Does it help?<em>

"Does it _help_?" Archie muttered to himself incredulously.

**_ArchieJ says_**  
><em>Help with what?<em>

**_Sunshine94 says_**_  
>Jane Doe cold case, November 1994. <em>JD-94-1348.<em>_

Archie had no idea how to respond. He reasoned that this person who had contacted him must have some sort of wireless override software that he used to hijack the CSI system. Which meant that he was chatting with a hacker. But then, he asked himself why a hacker would go through all of this trouble to show him that video. No one he knew in the lab knew more about computers than he did, and even if they did, none of them had the courage to hack into the crime lab's system. Hesitantly, he put his fingers to the keyboard.

**_ArchieJ says_**_  
>Maybe. Where did you get that video?<em>

**_Sunshine94 says_**_  
>342 West Dover Drive.<em>

**_ArchieJ says_**_  
>Is that where you are?<em>

**_Sunshin94 says_**_  
>I'll provide the shovel.<em>

And then, just like that, the conversation closed, and Archie was looking at the LVPD background again. There was something chilling about the conversation, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He wondered if he should tell one of the CSIs, or maybe Brass, about what this woman had said. But then, he realized, what if it was all just some crazy prank? A wild goose chase? He still hadn't fully dismissed the idea that Wendy and Hodges hadn't hired someone to prank him, even if he was being paranoid.

_But what if it's real? What if _you_ have the chance to solve a sixteen-year-old crime?_

It only took him a moment to make his decision. West Dover was in a shadier part of town, but it wasn't that far. He took his jacket off of the back of his chair and shrugged it on his shoulders.

"Excuse me?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned around and saw Libby, standing there with some files. He let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, hey." He smiled at her to mask his edginess. "What do you need?"

She held up a file. "This was on my desk? There are no fingerprints or anything, so I thought it was there by mistake. I'm… not really sure who to talk to about this."

Archie nodded, a little too quickly, his eyes a little too wide. But he reached for the file, and she handed it to him. "Here, let me take a—" One look at the label on the edge almost made him drop it again. _Jane Doe 11/04/94_.

"What's wrong?" Libby asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

Archie shook it off. "You, uh… you sure you didn't, you know, see anyone leave this on your desk? Like a short guy, gray hair, kinda angry looking? Maybe a brunette, with a ponytail?"

Libby shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. I was running prints for one of the CSIs, I didn't notice anybody. It's probably for one of their cases, they must have just got the wrong lab."

"Libby, this is a cold case file from 1994."

Libby frowned, then took the file back and looked at it. "That's weird. You think there's new evidence or something?"

"Or something…" Archie muttered.

Libby opened the file and thumbed through it. "How curious…" Her eyes skimmed the information and Archie watched as she began to chew on her lip. She closed the file and gave it back to Archie. "'94, huh? What a wacky year. I remember, the Internet was just coming out, huh? Beginning to be a big deal. It was kinda like something out of the future, you know? Fascinated tech geeks everywhere. I spent hours in my dorm room surfin' 'the nfet'." She giggled. "You remember those days?"

"Yeah, I explored the Internet in the '90s," Archie muttered absently, looking at the file in his hands apprehensively, worried about what would be inside. "My kid sister has Power Rangers fan fiction archived on from 1996. I should have never shown her how to post that stuff…" He looked up at Libby. "What… was in the file?"

"Photos of a dead girl," Libby replied. "Maybe a hooker? She wasn't exactly dressed conservatively, and she was found in the wrong side of town. Died on November 4th, no ID on her person, no fingerprints, and DNA back then was still in trial phases, so none of that. No clue who she was really, and no leads. Looks like it was open and then shelved within the span of a few days. Like they just… gave up on her… Sad, really."

Slowly, Archie opened the file. As he had expected, that pale girl with the braids and the blood coming out of her mouth was staring right back at him. But the photo was taken from above, when the video had seemed to be on the ground, angled down on the girl. It was definitely not the same shot that was now seared into the back of his mind. It said that she was found in a warehouse in the red light district. He chewed on his lip, then made the decision to drive to West Dover.

As if reading his mind, Libby said, "Going somewhere?"

"Wha?" Archie replied, blinking at her.

Libby gestured at him. "You're wearing your jacket."

"Yeah, I think I want to… check on something."

"Aren't you being mysterious?" Libby said. "Something personal?"

"No, it's just… about the case."

Libby seemed confused. "I thought that was the detectives' jobs, not ours."

"It's not," Archie replied. "It's… off the record."

Libby grinned. "Well, in that case, need someone to watch your back?"

Archie was about to protest, and then he thought of the video. Maybe having another person along would prevent any creepy things from happening again. "Sure. Grab a coat, it's cold out there."


	2. Sematary

Chapter Two: Sematary

The night was cloudy and moonless, which made it darker than ever as Archie pulled up to 342 West Dover Drive, but that didn't stop him from knowing exactly what it was.

"Aw, _man_!" he groaned. "Like this couldn't get any creepier!"

Libby seemed confused. "I don't get it. Archie, is this where we're supposed to go? Are you _sure_?"

Archie sighed, regretfully, but he knew this was where he had to be. "Yeah, I'm sure. You want to stay in the car?"

"And let you walk into a cemetery at night all on your own?" Libby scoffed. "As if!" As if to make a point, she got out of the car first. It almost made Archie smile. He was glad he brought her along.

He got out and closed the car door, looking over at the cemetery. In classic horror movie fashion, a thin layer of fog hovered over the hallowed ground beyond the black iron gates. There was a knife-like quality to the brisk October air that Archie was breathing, and as far as he knew, not a single sound. It was unnatural, especially in this part of town, which often had sirens blaring at all hours of the night, or the loud cracks of gunshots or backfiring cars. But it seemed that at this hour, not even the residents of West Dover were awake. Or perhaps it was just that none of them dared to go near the cemetery, which seemed like an isolated gothic island in an ocean of graffiti and decay. Other than the massive padlock and chain around the gate, it showed no signs that it was worried about trespassing gang members tagging tombstones.

"You getting a Michael Jackson Thriller vibe from this, or is it just me?"

Archie jumped again, having forgotten that he was with Libby. He turned to see her grinning at him and relaxed a little. "How come this place is so… clean?" he asked.

"How do you mean?" Libby asked.

"Look where we are," Archie explained. "Every other wall in sight is vandalized. This place doesn't even have a plastic bag floating around its grounds."

"Maybe it's haunted," Libby said in a spooky voice. "Oooooh."

"Not funny," Archie said. He approached the gate and gestured at her to follow. He took a close look at the padlock, then stepped back and looked up at the height of the fence. "Give me a boost," he said to Libby.

Without questioning it, Libby stepped forward and dropped down, knitting her fingers together into a foothold for him. When he was up and over he looked at her through the bars. It might have been the guilt of trespassing, but he felt like he was looking at her from the wrong side of a jail cell. "Ah, I didn't think about getting you over."

"Don't worry about me," Libby said. "Do you know what you're looking for?"

"Not exactly," Archie said. And then, he remembered something Sunshine94 had said about a shovel and shivered. "Aw, I hope it's not a body!"

Libby chuckled. "If you're looking for a body, you've come to the right place. Go on, now, I wanna know what the next chapter of this story is!"

Archie rolled his eyes. "You're way too happy about all of this. Cut it out."

She just smirked. Archie tried not to smile back at her before turning away from her and looking out at the misty graveyard that lay sprawled out at his feet like a corpse on a table. He walked further along an aisle of tombstones and felt something crawling on his neck. He brushed at it quickly, but when he looked around, he could see nothing on the ground. He brought his hand back to his neck where he discovered several tiny bumps scattered across his tingly skin. He blamed the cold. Seeking reassurance, he turned around to look at Libby, but he could barely see the gate through the dark and fog, let alone anything beyond it.

"Libby?" he called out, but there was no reply. Shaking it off, he kept going. He pulled out his cell phone to use as a flashlight, his eyes scanning the horizon for something other than an endless field of granite and dust. He began to run his fingers over the tops of the headstones. They were cool and moist beneath his fingertips. Some were porous and crumbling, others were as smooth as ice, but they were all chilled. His eyes flitted from left to right, looking for anything out of the ordinary that might catch his eye. The only sounds he could here were the grass and mud squelching beneath his feet and his own slow breathing. He licked his chapped lips and swallowed as his heart did jumping jacks in his chest.

He meandered through the gravestones, down one aisle, then another. He felt like this was lasting for hours and thought it was maybe time to just give up and go back to the lab. Maybe he shouldn't give the hacker the satisfaction of walking right into some humiliating practical joke. Maybe he was being filmed right at that moment, and it would air on _World's Dumbest Lab Technicians._ His blood boiled at the thought of being played like that, but anger was a far more welcome emotion than fear and he embraced it. He almost laughed, and wondered if the hacker was here in the graveyard with him, hiding behind a headstone.

The anger fizzled away like water in a frying pan the second he heard a step behind him. Archie stopped dead in his tracks and listened. He strained his ears until they ached, but he heard nothing. He spun around anyways, just in case. There was nothing behind him but endless aisles of headstones and grass. He couldn't see the fence from here, not behind him. He looked from left to right and saw no end to the landscape. He was stranded in a green and gray desert of death and putrefaction. His chest tightened as he thought of the bodies beneath his feet, slowly rotting and permeating their coffins and the soil that surrounded them, their stench rising into the air, and for a moment, Archie could smell each and every one of them.

Archie shook his head hard to snap himself out of his panicked daydream. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that dead bodies were nothing to be afraid of. This wasn't Stephen King's _Pet Sematary_, and corpses couldn't hurt him. He had only ever seen one freshly dead body, and that was bad enough. He wondered if this were Nick or Greg out here if they would be this distressed. Assuring himself that they would probably be laughing at him right now, he tried to man up. He swallowed again, and turned back around to continue on his search.

He ran headfirst into a shovel.

"_Ow_!" he exclaimed, rubbing his forehead and grumbling. He had forgotten where he was for a moment, but then he remembered. He looked at the wooden handle that had whacked him in the head and followed it down, where the blade was hidden beneath the earth. Someone had stuck the shovel into the soil so that it now stood perpendicular to the ground. And Archie could have sworn it hadn't been there a second ago, when he had looked.

Sunshine94's words shot into his consciousness like a bullet. _I'll provide the shovel._

Archie looked around desperately for the hacker, or whatever it was that had left the shovel in the ground. He sprinted down the aisle but could see no sign of anyone, then ran the other direction. Taking deep breaths, he gave up and went instead to inspect the shovel. With some effort, he hoisted the thing out of the earth and examined it. It seemed like a fairly average shovel, with a finished wood handle and a good steel blade. Archie didn't know what he had expected to find, but he didn't find it.

He took a step back and looked at where the shovel had been placed. It stood right in front of a short, modest grave marker. His dropped the shovel as his stomach lurched.

"Hell no, I am _not_ digging up a body," he groaned. He needed to call someone. He was clearly out of his depth here. He should have never come here in the first place. He was about to turn around and leave, when curiosity got the better of him. He looked over his shoulder at the gravestone and kneeled down in front of it. He held up his cell phone to illuminate the name written there.

_Unknown Female, 15-20 years old. Died November 4, 1994._

Archie's jaw dropped. This was where she was buried. The body of the girl in the library. She was _here_, and somebody wanted him to dig up her body. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as resolve set in. He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't disturb the grave of a girl who had died like that.

"I can't," he said out loud, and then rose to his feet. He began to walk away, knowing that if he just walked long enough in one direction, he'd find his way to the fence, and then he could find the gate from there. He had taken three steps when his phone buzzed. He had a text message.

_Just dig. Please. I want you to._

The number said _Restricted_. Archie just shook his head, then looked back at the grave.

"I don't even know what the hell I'm looking for," he muttered, urging himself to call Brass, go home, and crawl into bed.

And then, another text message.

_I'll tell you what to look for after you dig me up. I promise._

Archie about dropped his phone. "Jesus!" he exclaimed, looking around the graveyard. He held onto his phone with both hands and looked up at the sky, biting his tongue to keep from screaming. He looked back at the grave, afraid to even think anything. He looked back at his phone, but there were no new texts.

Swallowing his fears, doubts and common sense, Archie turned around and headed back for the grave. He stared at the shovel he had dropped and pick it up again. Shaking his head, and going against every fiber in his being telling him to drop it and run, he spiked the blade into the earth and pressed down on the edge of it with his shoe. He brought up the turf and beneath that was just soil. So he dug. And every time the blade of the shovel cut into the earth, Archie felt as if he were cutting into flesh. But with every shovel of dirt, it got easier and easier to get past his guilt. In fact, he almost got excited, wondering what exactly he would find in the time capsule that was the coffin of the Jane Doe. And as he dug, the sky opened up and rain pelted the earth like shrapnel, dispelling the mist around him and turning the dirt into mud. Archie hardly noticed. He was too focused on the task at hand. He gripped the shovel so hard that his palms grew raw and began to bleed. And then, finally, the blade struck wood.

Archie fell to his knees and wiped away the dirt and mud. The coffin was so basic it looked like a crate that her body was just dropped into. At one time, it might have been made of fresh, light wood, but now it was stained dark with mud and the grime of decay. Archie stood again and worked so that he cleared a nice hole so that the whole coffin was exposed. Again, he found himself not knowing what to do. He took a deep breath. As if sensing his ambivalence, his phone vibrated again. Archie read the message.

_You have to open it._

That was exactly what he was afraid of. It wasn't enough to tell himself that corpses couldn't hurt him, Archie had to _believe_ it, and that was _much_ harder. A part of him was terrified that the skeleton would sit up and wrap its bony fingers around his throat. Rationally, he knew this was ridiculous, but it's difficult to be rational when you're at the bottom of a six-foot-deep hole at the behest of a computer virus. Or a hacker. Archie still couldn't decide.

He jumped as he heard a _thump!_ behind him and spun around to see a crowbar on top of the coffin. As usual, he looked around and saw no one above him. By now, he had expected this, and that fact scared him almost more than opening the coffin. He had dug the hole wide enough that there was a niche he could get a good foothold in as he pried the coffin open. It was a difficult process, as it had clearly been nailed shut, but with a loud _snap_ he managed the pop it open. The lid of the coffin banged against the muddy wall of the hole and Archie closed his eyes and tensed, waiting for the corpse to eat him. After a few seconds went by with no movement from the body, Archie dared to slowly open his eyes.

He managed to catch his breath before it escaped. He had seen bodies before, generally in the lab on Dr. Robbins' table, and that one time at the casino. But he'd never seen one as decomposed as this. The greenish brown skin was pulled tight across the bones of the skeleton with ripples of folds and cords in it. The eyes were gone and the sockets seemed deeper than black holes. The hair was stringy and colorless and there were holes in the white dress she was buried in. His heart rattling against his ribcage, Archie found that he couldn't look away.

His phone buzzed. _Quit staring. The evidence you need is at my feet._

Archie blinked at the message on his phone, then nodded and looked down at the body's feet. At first, all he could see were her shriveled feet in white shoes. But as he held up his phone, he could make out something else beneath them. He gingerly lifted the feet and frowned at some old floppy disks and a cassette tape. Glancing around again, he grabbed them and let the bony feet fall.

"Is that all?" he asked, not knowing who would answer. His phone remained silent. He took that to mean yes, and with a sigh of relief, closed the modest casket. He looked up, squinting at the sky as the rain came down on him.

"Got to keep this stuff dry…" he muttered.

As if in answer, something again fell on the coffin. Archie flinched, but didn't even bother looking for what threw it. It was a black backpack and Archie shoved the cassette and floppy disks inside. He put it on his shoulder, and then reached up, grabbing the edge of the grave and sliding back down as he tried to pull himself up and out of it. He frowned and dug his fingers into the squelching mud, trying to get a good hold, but they just pulled the dirt out with him and he tumbled backwards.

"Oh, _come on_!" he groaned, getting up and once again attacking the dirt wall. "Give me a hand, here?"

He reached out over the grave and felt something cold and slimy firmly grasp his wrist.

He shrieked shrilly and yanked his hand away, stumbling back down into the hole and falling against the other wall. Someone above him was laughing. But it wasn't the eerie tinkling giggle of creepy little girl, or the deep chortle of a Transylvanian vampire. It was sweet, and very human.

"You scream like a girl."

Archie looked up to the edge of the hole and saw Libby standing there, her arms folded and her eyebrow cocked in amusement.

Archie glared at her. "I've had a creepy night, all right?"

"I thought you knew I was here," Libby explained. "I gave you that backpack, after all."

"You did?" Archie blinked. "Oh, I just thought…"

"What, that it had fallen out of the sky? Didn't you just ask me to give you a hand?"

"You had to wait for me to _ask_?" Archie returned. "Didn't you see that I kept falling on my ass?"

"I did, and it was wicked entertaining," Libby said with a grin. She knelt down on one knee and extended a bony hand out to him, which was soaked in rain water. "C'mon, I'll help you up."

Archie gratefully took and allowed her to help him out of the hole. By the time he was back on the grass, he wiped at the mud on his jeans and shirt, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He looked up at Libby, who was just as soaked as he was and couldn't help but grin. He looked at the shovel and the crow bar.

"You didn't happen to give me those, too, did you?" Archie asked.

Libby shook her head. "I just got here. Couldn't find a way over the fence until a few minutes ago. Stood on a mail box." She smiled, smugly, obviously very proud of herself.

Archie looked back at the open grave again. "Well, we should cover her up. Get her back to resting in peace."

Libby's smile disappeared and she nodded, picking up the shovel herself.


	3. The Freshmen

**_Author's Note:_** So this story isn't getting any love, but I always finish my stories before I post them. Since I do have the rest of this, it'll go up. Maybe I'll get some feedback eventually? If you're reading this, please make my day and let me know. If you don't like it, tell me why! Thanks so much.

Chapter Three: The Freshmen

Libby and Archie stared at the cassette and floppy disks sprawled out on a table in the AV lab. They were covered in mud and nearly two decades old. Archie wasn't even sure he had a tape player in his lab anymore, let alone a floppy disk drive. And even if he did, there was no guarantee he could salvage _anything_ from either piece of evidence. It had been underground for so long, the tape and film might be degraded. Archie put his forearms flat on the table and placed his chin on top of his hands.

After what seemed like forever doing nothing, Libby reached across the table and picked up one of the floppy disks. She moved the metal slider and looked at the diskette itself. "It doesn't look that damaged," she said.

"Yeah, but try finding a floppy drive these days."

"Can't be _that_ hard," Libby said. "There's always, you know, the 'net."

Suddenly, Archie sat up again. "Hey, wait a second!" He got up and opened a cabinet he barely ever opened. He reached inside and pulled out several old laptops. He took out a toolkit and grabbed a screwdriver.

"What are you doing?" Libby asked.

"I never can work up the nerve to throw out my old machines," Archie explained. "They can always be made useful again somehow." He held up a black Dell. "Like this one, circa 1999. Damn, this thing looks ancient now, huh?" He turned it over and took the screwdriver to it. "Dig in there for a connector cable, would you?"

"Sure thing," Libby said.

Archie disconnected the floppy drive from the laptop then took it over to his main computer. Libby handed him the cable and he connected the two.

"Give me one of the diskettes," Archie said, and she did. He looked at it one last time, his brow knit together. "What if these disks are blank, or erased? It's easy enough to do, even unintentionally. Diskettes are ferromagnetic, which is what makes them so easily rewritable."

Libby shrugged. "I guess we'll never know unless we put it in there."

Archie nodded. "Guess you're right," he said, and holding his breath, he did. At first, the computer wouldn't recognize the floppy drive. The machine was so old, it had come with its drivers installed on the laptop, not the drive. After scanning the internet, Archie finally found downloadable drivers on some of his technophile websites and was able to install them. Finally, the computer could run the drive. He loaded it, and breathed a sigh of relief to see a series of files on the disk.

"They're all dated," he said. "That's it."

"Start with the oldest," Libby suggested.

They were text documents. It had started as a diary. A young girl, just starting college at UNLV, complaining about her roommate, who was her polar opposite. The girl signed every entry 'Ellie,' but with no last name. The documents told a story and painted the picture of an eighteen-year-old tech geek who was fascinated with computers and spent a lot of her time on the internet. She explained in one entry that she had always kept journals in notebooks, but was making the transition to digital because it could 'last a lifetime,' considering the direction she thought technology was taking. She theorized that within ten years, everything would be digital and paper would be old technology. Archie smiled as he read her crazy visions of the future, remembering when he'd had similar fantasies in the '90s. But Ellie had some clever and accurate predictions, too, among them the potential for digital identity theft and eBooks, though she didn't call them by these names. The more he read, the more Archie fell in love with her. He would have loved to have sat down and had a conversation with her, if she had survived.

As they went through the disks, the journal entries revolved less around her tech theories and more around her roommate, whom she strongly suspected was doing something illicit to gain a little extra cash. Despite this, Ellie warmed to her roommate, and the two went to the dining hall together often, and even a few movies together. In an entry from October, 1994, Ellie found out exactly where her roommate was getting all her money.

_Maya came home last night absolutely ecstatic, and said she just _had_ to share the news with me. She asked if she could trust me, and I told her of course. We were buds now, I'd take her secrets to the grave. I didn't care if she's selling crack or what. So she told me, and it's not drugs. It's sex. Maya's a prostitute._

Archie let out a low whistle and Libby rolled her eyes.

_Or, actually, Maya calls it an 'escort.' Whatever, she's still trading sex for cash. Her clients are what she calls, 'High Rollers.' She works for a casino, I don't want to say which (just in case) that pays her to make their VIPs _very_ happy. So tonight, she said, there was this one really, really special VIP. I didn't believe her when she told me, but she insisted. Arnold Blake, Sheriff of the Las Vegas Police Department. _

"No way…" Archie breathed, then brought up Arnold Blake's website in a web browser.

"Why's that a big deal?" Libby asked.

"Then-Sheriff Blake is now _Senator_ Blake," Archie explained, his eyebrows almost hitting his hairline. "Talk about a VIP, he's been talking about throwing his hat in the ring for the republican candidate in the presidential elections! I saw him on the news commenting about Sarah Palin _just_ the other day!" He pointed at the campaign site he had loaded, painted in red white and blue. "He runs on the platform of justice and order, using his law enforcement background as proof of his integrity."

"Doesn't sound very trustworthy to me if he was seeing escorts at some casino," Libby said, wrinkling her nose.

"Libby, this entry is dated October 21, 1994. That's two weeks before Ellie was murdered."

"If our murder victim even _is_ Ellie," Libby pointed out. "It could just as easily be her roommate, Maya."

But Archie was shaking his head. "It's Ellie, I know it. I can… I can feel it. Maya wouldn't use technology to get my attention like this."

"What are you talking about?" Libby said with a chuckle. "She didn't write this to get your attention. She never even _knew_ you."

Archie forced a laugh himself. "Uh, yeah, right, sorry. Got a little carried away. I just… like how she writes, is all. Sounds like something I might have written at that age. Some of it, anyway."

Libby smiled. "Let's see what Ellie did with this information." She plugged in the next floppy disk.

The following entries explained how Ellie begged Maya to help her break into the escort business. Apparently, Maya thought she was hot enough to make some top dollar and agreed to hook her up. Ellie explained in her journal that her motivation was two-fold. First, she couldn't wait to look that 'hypocrite' Arnold Blake in the eye when he paid her for sex, considering the hard stand he took against legal brothels in Vegas. But second, she was going into deep debt paying for her college tuition on her own (the journal did not mention any family or help she was receiving to pay for it) and the money was very tempting. She had seen a few johns through the weeks, but none of them were, according to her, very noteworthy. One day, she wrote a particularly vicious and very short entry, one she didn't even sign.

_He hasn't come around while I've been working yet, but I swear to God I'm going to nail that bastard to a wall and watch him bleed to death._

Archie and Libby exchanged looks.

"Wonder what happened to shift her opinion of him from 'hypocrite' to 'bastard,'" Libby said.

Archie shrugged, and moved on. Finally, her big break came. She saw him at the roulette table. When her boss told Maya that he had asked for a girl, Ellie had begged to go in her place. Ellie explained how she had set up a camcorder in the casino hotel room she usually took her clients to, which was themed to look like a study in an old mansion.

Her last entry stated that she couldn't _wait_ to sell the video to the news and expose him as a fraud. It was dated November 1, 1994.

"She was faking," Archie realized with a smile, remembering the video of the skittish girl who acted like an amateur. "She knew _exactly_ what she was doing, she was just trying to get _him_ to say it for the camera!"

"What camera?" Libby asked. "Archie… Whatever, look, we don't even know if any of this is true, or the wild fantasy of some crazy tech geek."

"Why would she lie about this?" Archie asked.

"She might not even be _real_," Libby insisted. "What if she was a writer, working on an epistolary novel?"

Archie had to concede that this was possible. "But then, why did she use the name of a _real_ former sheriff?"

"For realism's sake? Coincidence? I don't know," Libby said. "But you have to be a skeptic in this job, don't you?"

"I guess…" Archie said. "Hey, wait. Ellie and Maya, right? Both students at UNLV in 1994, and freshmen. There can't be too many roommates during that year with those names, can there?"

He pulled up the UNLV Police Department's website and smirked at Libby. "I dated an officer there once who gave me her password. She never changes it." He managed to log into the database, and looked for housing records from 1994. He searched Maya and Ellie for female first names and came up with nothing. He sat, stumped, and stared at the computer.

"Maybe Ellie was a nickname," Libby suggested. "Short for… Eleanor or Ellen or something."

Archie tried both of these, and still came up empty.

"How about just Maya, then?" Libby tried.

He searched for female students in on-campus housing with the first name of Maya in 1994 and got five hits. He went down the list. "Maya Davis, roommate Sofia Gomez… Maya Delgado, roommate Sarah Fisher… Maya Talbot, roommate Elizabeth French… Maya Wong, roommate—"

"Wait," Libby interrupted. "Ellie can be a nickname for Elizabeth."

"OK, so… Elizabeth French," Archie said, writing the name down. He beamed at Libby. "We have our victim!"

"Whoa there, tiger, slow down," said Libby. "We still have one more piece of evidence we haven't looked at." She held up the cassette.

Archie nodded. "Yeah, of course, um…" He looked around his lab for a cassette player, and then remembered the last time he had needed to use one. It wasn't a fond memory, remembering playing the tape Nick's kidnapper had left for them, but it did remind him where he had stored the machine. He pulled it out and plugged it in, then slid the cassette into the player. The beginning the tape was garbled, so Archie fast-forwarded a little. He began to worry when it didn't clear up.

"Ugh, sounds chipmunk-y," he complained. "Maybe we can get something if I try and separate out the static on the computer…"

But just as he said it, the tape seemed to get back on track, in the middle of a sentence. _"—much time. I think, I think he's coming."_ She sounded panicked. Her voice and breathing were trembling. _"He's been asking for the tape, but I could never…"_ Garbled. _"…but so it's safe. He's so much worse than I thought. He's not just a hypocrite, he's a sick old bastard who likes his sex rough and his girls in pain. First time, he's all sweet, if a bit command—"_ Garbled. _"—always gets mean at the end…"_ Garbled. _"— can't run anymore. Too tired, feels like my lungs are on fire. Oh god… he's here."_

There was a sound that seemed like the recorder was dropped, and then a fierce and unending scream and shrieks for help. The noise was abruptly cut off, and he could hear strained gasps and whimpers of someone struggling to breathe. And then, two swift bangs. Archie flinched, remembering her head wound and cause of death – blunt force trauma. Then, nothing. There were some footsteps, a muttered curse, but then, just the nothingness again.

Archie was stunned. After all he had read and learned about this girl, it broke his heart to hear her die like that. He turned off the tape. "So…" he breathed. "Blake killed her to protect his career."

"Sounds like it…" Libby whispered.

"No wonder the investigation didn't last long…" Archie muttered. "He dropped her off in a warehouse in the red light district and made everyone think she was just some anonymous hooker, killed by a john… The city paid for that plot, he must have dumped the evidence into her casket before it was interred."

"There's just one problem," Libby said.

"What's that?"

"Ellie never said it was Blake who was after her on the tape," Libby explained. "That's reasonable doubt."

"Who the hell else could it be?" Archie exclaimed.

"Defense could say it might be someone else she was trying to blackmail," said Libby. "Her journal entries establish a tendency towards that behavior."

Archie swore. "If _only_ we had the tape!"

"Yeah, but that part was garbled," Libby said.

Archie rewound it. "Maybe I can get something out of it."

"_I could never… but so it's safe._" He listened to that segment over and over again.

"I don't hear anything," Libby said.

Archie played it one more time. "Why would she use two conjunctions?"

"What?"

" 'But so'?" Archie asked. He listened to it again.

"Maybe she didn't?" Libby suggested.

Archie listened to it one more time. "No, she didn't," he said. "She didn't say 'but.' She said '_bot_.'"

"Huh?" Libby looked doubtful. "So, what, she gave the tape to a robot?"

"No, she gave it to _Talbot_," Archie said. "Maya Talbot."

Libby folded her arms and smiled, looking impressed. "Look at you. A regular detective."

"We gotta find her!" Archie declared, spinning back to his computer. He searched, but Maya Talbot was a more common name than he figured. He narrowed it down by age, and that helped. He noticed that the UNLV archives had Maya Talbot's birthday, and when he added that in, he only got one result.

"Jackpot!" he said, then jumped to his feet, too excited about the fact that he was on the verge of solving a sixteen-year-old cold case.

Before he could leave, Libby caught him by the hand. "Shouldn't you tell a detective?"

Archie blinked, then came back to his senses. "Oh, yeah, right. Protocol."

"Protocol," Libby repeated. "You knucklehead."

Archie pulled out his phone and dialed. He waited a few moments. "Brass? Yeah, hey, listen. I was doing a little digging, and, uh, I think I may have solved a cold case from the '90s… Uh huh…" His eyes went wide. "Chain of custody? Of course! Um… Yeah, we can talk about that when you get here. But there's one piece of evidence you can _definitely_ use, and that's with this girl, Maya Talbot…"

* * *

><p>The three of them sat in the car outside of Anthony Brenner and Maya Talbot's suburban home. There was a deflated soccer ball growing moss on the front lawn, a jack-o-lantern on the porch, and a ghost in the window.<p>

Brass turned to Archie, who was sitting next to him in the front seat. "This is your baby. You wanna do the talking, hotshot?"

Libby snickered at the nickname from the backseat. "Yeah, hotshot. Why don't you show the detective here how it's done?"

Archie rolled his eyes and glared at the both of them before he said, "Yeah, thanks, Captain."

Brass nodded, and they both left the car. As Brass headed to the doorstep, Archie lingered behind when he noticed Libby remained in the backseat.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked her through the open window.

She shook her head. "I'm not so great with people. That's why I stay in the lab most of the time. But you, you're a regular Hardy Boy. I'll just wait here for you. Good luck!"

Archie shook his head, unable to fathom how a beautiful girl like that could be so shy.

"Archie?" Brass called, already on the porch.

"I'm coming!" he replied, jogging up to join the detective.

Brass was looking over the file. "How'd you find this case, anyway, Archie?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you," Archie replied with a smile.

Brass looked up at him with a straight face. "Try me."

"Uh…" But instead, Archie rang the doorbell.

"You had files and an audio recording," Brass continued. "Where the hell did you find those?"

Archie pursed his lips as he tried to think of an answer and was grateful when the door opened to reveal a lovely African-American woman in her mid-thirties with a toddler on her hip.

"Can I help you?"

"Maya Talbot?" Brass asked, flashing his badge. She nodded. "My name is Captain Jim Brass, I'm with the Las Vegas Police. This here is Archie Johnson, he's a CSI."

Maya nodded. "How can I help you?"

Brass turned to Archie, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Oh, right," Archie said. "Um… Ma'am, we believe you might be in possession of evidence of a crime."

"That's absurd," Maya said, looking baffled. "I'm just a stay-at-home mom."

"You weren't sixteen years ago," Archie said.

Maya looked from Brass to Archie. "What's this about?"

"Your freshman year of college, you lived in a dorm on campus with a girl named Elizabeth French."

Maya looked startled by the name. But before she could say anything, her husband came to the door.

"Everything all right, sweetheart?" he asked, eyeing Brass and Archie suspiciously.

"Yes…" Maya breathed. She turned to her husband. "Tony, take Anna into the kitchen to play with her brother, would you?"

She handed the toddler to Tony. The little girl spread her arms wide and cried, "Daddy!" Laughing, Tony whisked her away.

Anna's mother was less delighted. She nodded quickly at Brass and Archie and opened the door wider. "Come in, please." She guided them to the living room and urged them to have a seat. "Can I get you something? Glass of water, or… my husband just baked some pumpkin cookies with our son, if you would—"

"Do you know where we could maybe find Elizabeth, to talk to her?" Archie asked.

"I'm confused…" Maya said. "I thought you were here because you found her."

"You never reported Elizabeth as missing," Brass pointed out.

"I did," Maya said. "Twice. Once to our RA, and then to the police. But then, our RA said that she had just dropped out and moved back to Seattle. I wrote to the forwarding address, but I never heard anything." She smiled, sadly. "It's a shame. We were really beginning to get along. Like sisters, after only two months."

"Does she have family up in Seattle?" Archie asked.

"That's the funny thing," Maya said, point at him with her index finger, thoughtfully. "Ellie's parents were dead. Her mother died in a bus crash when she was nine, and her father died of liver cancer the year before she came here for school. She said she had moved to Vegas to start over. She had no reason to go back."

"Before she disappeared…" Archie began, "did she give you anything to hide or keep safe?"

"No…" Maya began, then her eyes widened. "Wait. You mean my birthday present?"

"Your birthday is November 18th," Archie said.

Maya gave an awkward laugh. "Yes, that's right."

"But Elizabeth disappeared in the first week of November," Archie went on. "Why did she give you such an early birthday present?"

"I don't know," Maya answered, honestly. "But now that you mention it, she gave it to me the last time I ever saw her."

"What was the present?" Brass asked.

"A video," Maya said. "Ellie said it was the one we made on our first night of real bonding. We vegged out and got a little drunk in our room and watched the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie we rented. We played with her camcorder and said goofy things, quoted the movie, and professed our undying friendship to each other." She laughed, her eyes looking at the corner of the room. "One of my best memories from college, actually."

"So you've seen the whole tape?" Archie asked.

She shook her head. "No, she… she wrote a note, said that I wasn't allowed to watch it unless she was there to see and relive it with me, on my birthday. When she disappeared, I waited for her to come back, so I could keep that promise. My birthday came and went, and I celebrated it with other friends. Eventually, the tape fell under my bed and… I never really thought about it until now."

"Do you know where it is now?" Brass asked.

She began to shake her head. "Sorry…" But then, she had a thought. "It _might_ be in a box up in the garage, with a few of my other keepsakes from college. Why would you need _that_?"

Archie glanced at Brass. "We… _think_ it might not actually be a tape from your girls' night."

"What else would it be of?" Maya asked.

"When you were in college, you and Ellie shared a very interesting job…" Archie stopped as he saw a boy, around the age of nine or ten in the doorway.

"Mom?"

Maya blinked, then looked at him. "Dorian, help your Mamma out and go into the garage. Get that big box that says 'UNLV' on it. You remember what that means, don't you?"

Dorian rolled his eyes. "It means 'U're Not Leaving Vegas for College.'" He laughed. "I know, Mom."

"You're a Rebel," Maya said. "I know it!"

"And 'you' is spelled with a 'y,'" Dorian told her, smugly. "UNLV forget to teach you how to spell?"

She gave him a playful glare. "Go get that box, you little smart aleck!"

He laughed as she chased him out of the room. When she turned back to Brass and Archie, her face grew desperate. "Please," she said. "Be careful about what you say, this is my family in this home."

Archie nodded. "Well, in that profession," he continued, "Ellie met some pretty powerful men. Right?"

Maya nodded. "We both did." She brought her fingers to her mouth. "My God, you don't think one of her clients did something to her, do you?"

Archie gave Brass a look, then nodded at the file the detective held. Brass nodded, and opened it up.

"Ms. Talbot, do you recognize the girl in this photo?"

Maya took the picture Brass handed her and pursed her lips. Archie saw her eyes well up. "Oh God…" Then, she nodded. "Yes… that's Ellie all right. She used the wig because even though she wanted the money and loved the thrill, she was worried about being recognized. A lot of us girls did it. Same reason we went by stage names. I was Della Rose. Ellie was Sunshine." Maya frowned and squinted at the image. "She's dressed like…"

"Someone in your line of work?" Archie suggested.

Maya shot daggers at him. "It's not my line of work anymore, thanks. But no, that's not what I meant. We had a client that was particularly fond of the school-girl get-up, always had his girls dress like that." Her eyes doubled in size. "He killed her."

"Who?" Brass asked.

"Blake," she said, then her hands flew to her lips, as if terrified she'd even said it. "No, I mean… Aaron Blake, I think his name was?"

"Arnold," Archie said, clearly. "Arnold Blake."

Brass stood up. "Archie, you never said—"

"No, I think it was Aaron," Maya said quickly. "Please, it was Aaron." She gave Archie a serious look. "Remember, I have a _family_ now."

Archie also stood up. "Ms. Talbot, it's OK," he said.

She shook her head. "You don't understand. He's capable of it, I know it. I've seen it. So had Ellie. She saw the bruises he left on me, it made her… sick. Livid. That's why she wanted to get him so bad. She was mad about what he'd done to me."

"Well, we think she did get him," Archie said. "That tape. We think Ellie taped Blake paying for sex with her. We think she gave it to you to keep it safe, and we think Blake killed her for it, then used his position as sheriff to cover it up."

Brass was clenching and unclenching his fists. "I hate rotten sheriffs..."

"This it, Mom?"

Maya jumped at the question, then looked and saw her son carrying a box much too big for him. He dropped it on the floor and looked up at her proudly. Then, he saw the tear streaks on her cheeks and frowned. "Mom, are you OK?"

She nodded to reassure him. "I'm fine, baby, just fine. Go help your dad with your sister, OK?"

He looked at Brass and Archie accusingly. "What are you talking about?"

"Go to the kitchen, baby," Maya said, more firmly.

Dorian looked up at her with such adoration. Archie didn't blame Maya for her fear. "OK, Mom," he said, then went down the hall.

Maya tore open the cardboard box and dug through the things inside. Finally, she pulled out an old video tape with a tattered ribbon on it. She walked over to Archie and handed it to him.

"If you think this will put that bastard away for killing Ellie, you take it. You take it, and you make it count."


	4. Dead Again

_**Author's Note:**_ I want to give special thanks for my sole loyal reviewer, Lolly4Holly. I really appreciate you taking a chance on this story and dropping me a line that let me know you were reading. And so, this chapter is dedicated wholly and specifically to you. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Four: Dead Again<span>

At the lab, Archie sat at his computer and watched the tape, with Libby looking over his right shoulder and Greg Sanders watching on his left. The tape began, and Archie immediately recognized the scene he had seen on his computer. A girl, in what appeared to be a library, talking to a man he couldn't see… at first.

"What's your name?"

"Sunshine."

He laughed. "I see." He began to sing. "_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…_"

"And I can make you happy," she said.

"I'll bet you can." He touched her and she flinched. "What was that?"

"Sorry… Just new at this is all."

This seemed to excite him. "Ah. Fresh blood?"

"You could say that. So… how does this work, exactly?"

The video continued. And then, there was a perfect shot of Arnold Blake's face, with a less than flattering expression.. None of them seemed to know what to say.

Finally, Greg broke the silence. "It's really him."

"It's really him," Libby agreed.

"Arnold Blake…" Greg said, in disbelief. "Senator. Sheriff."

"Murderer," Libby supplied.

"God…" Greg muttered, shaking his head. "Turn it off." Archie obliged. "Where in the world did you find this?"

"Maya Talbot's house," said Archie.

"Yeah, but how did you know it was there?"

Archie gestured at the floppy disks and cassettes.

"We did a little detective work of our own," Libby said.

"OK…" Greg said. "What started this? I mean, 1994, Jane Doe… That's practically ancient history. What made you look into this?"

"Anonymous tip," Archie said.

"Some tip…" Greg muttered. He smiled. "Nice work. You ever think about making the switch to CSI?"

"Sometimes." "No." The answers came from Libby and Archie respectively at the same time.

Greg chuckled. "Why not, Archie? Afraid you could never get out of my admittedly awesome shadow?"

"Unlike some people in this lab, not to name any names – Wendy – I would prefer to be as little like you as possible," Archie replied.

Greg feigned injury. "That hurt, bro."

Brass appeared in the doorway, and the three of them looked up at him. He stared at the floor, looking worn. He rubbed his eyes with his hands.

"It's not going so well," he said. "Blake lawyered up the second we even contacted him."

Archie stood up, his expression set. "Let me talk to him."

Both Libby and Greg looked at him as if he were crazy. "Archie, don't…" Libby began.

"You sure that's a good idea, man?" Greg asked. "When's the last time you sat in on an interview?"

"Greg, you saw that tape," Archie said. "You saw he was a sleazebag. But you didn't hear her die. He didn't even say anything, he just grabbed her and banged her head against something. Twice." He looked at Libby. "_You_ understand, don't you?"

She stopped, as if surprised he would ask. But, slowly, she nodded.

Greg looked at Brass. "What do you think?"

"Archie knows more about this case than any of us," Brass replied. "And I'll be in there with him."

"Me too," Libby said, resolutely.

Archie looked from Libby to Brass. "Agreed," he said.

* * *

><p>At first, Libby opted to observe the interview through the glass. She said she'd come in when she felt it was right to do so. Archie followed Brass into the room and he felt a shiver when he saw Arnold Blake, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded. He was an older man, wish silver hair and broad shoulders and a formidable stare, which he focused on Archie.<p>

"My client has nothing more to say to you," said the lawyer who sat beside him.

"We have evidence to suggest that your client killed Elizabeth French," Archie said.

"You mean the ramblings of a girl who may or may not be your victim and a few diary entries about my client?" the lawyer replied.

"And a tape of your client paying for sex from the victim," Brass replied.

"So my client hired an escort," the lawyer said, dismissively. "Even in the 90s, that wasn't illegal."

"It was when it was provided by an unlicensed service," Brass replied.

"Either way, it was a misdemeanor at best," said the lawyer.

"Maybe so," Archie said, "but it's definitely not one the Senator would want getting out to the public, is it, considering how hard he's fighting to make brothels illegal in Clark County again." He managed to look the monster in the eye. "Do you think that you would have ever gone _anywhere_ with your political career if Elizabeth had sold that tape? You think you'd even have been able to keep your job as sheriff?"

Blake simply returned Archie's stare with his own.

"You forget that my client has served this district and this state faithfully for twenty-five years," the lawyer insisted. "And he knows how the law enforcement community works."

"So do we, unfortunately," Brass said. "Or, rather, we know how one can abuse it." He showed Blake a file. "This is Detective Miles Warren. He committed suicide in 1996. He was the one who investigated Elizabeth French's disappearance and the Jane Doe murder. He's the one that told the dean of the college that Elizabeth had dropped out of school, according to what the dean has told us. And his former partner, Jason Richter told us that he was very chummy with you, Senator. And he always seemed to have more money to burn than Jason ever did."

"Just what are you trying to imply?" the lawyer asked.

"That plot in the cemetery on West Dover was paid for by the state," Brass went on. "Miles Warren signed off on it. According to the priest, he was the only person present when she was interred. Maya Talbot says that she came home from class one day to find Elizabeth's half of the dorm room completely bare, and Warren stood in the middle of it, carrying a sports bag. Miles Warren took the evidence and, not knowing what else to do with it, buried it with Elizabeth French in a place he knew no one would ever find it. Her legal burial site. Shortly thereafter, Warren shelved the case."

"If that evidence was in the ground with the Jane Doe, who I'm still not convinced is Elizabeth French," the lawyer began, "then that means you disinterred her body. Do you have any papers justifying this drastic action?"

Archie went pale, but Brass had him covered when he confidently stated, "All evidence collection was done according to protocol. The evidence was discovered by a civilian, who turned it into the authorities as soon as he could. Any action that civilian took in procuring that evidence is not the responsibility of the LVPD, as he was acting outside of our purview."

"And just who is this good Samaritan that dug up this poor woman's grave?" the lawyer asked.

"You're lookin' at him," Archie said.

"He works for the crime lab," the lawyer noted.

"Not when he found that evidence, he wasn't," Brass replied. "Besides, Archie Johnson is a technician, with no training in the collection of evidence and no courses in legal protocol concerning that collection. He can't be held legally responsible." He leaned forward. "Now let's get back to the matter at hand, here. You, Senator Blake."

"My client has nothing to say," the lawyer said, leaning back in his chair.

"That's OK," said Brass with a smile. "He's still under arrest. Oh, and if you're not convinced our Jane Doe is Elizabeth French, that's fine, too. Maya Talbot provided a photo, which our facial recognition software will prove, without a doubt, matches the photos taken at the Jane Doe's crime scene. You don't have to believe it, and you don't have to talk, but you're still going to burn in hell."

"We'll let a trial decide that," the lawyer said.

The door opened, and Archie turned to see Libby walk in. He wasn't the only one who noticed. For the first time in the interview, Arnold Blake looked afraid. He seized his lawyer's arm, but still said nothing.

"What's wrong, Arnold?" the lawyer asked.

Blake's eyes didn't leave Libby, who just stared right back at him. And then, slowly, Libby smiled. She began to hum, softly but hauntingly, "You Are My Sunshine."

"No…" Blake breathed. Libby continued to hum.

Archie could tell that Blake was about to break. He turned on him. "You killed Elizabeth French in cold blood because she could expose the perverted bastard that you really are."

"Please don't take my sunshine away," Libby finished. "Ain't no sunshine where you're going, Senator."

"Who are you?" Blake demanded, then turned to Archie and Brass. "What are you trying to do, here?"

"I think his conscience is catching up with him," Libby told Archie. "Tell them about the girl, Arnold."

"What about the girl?" Archie asked the senator, who looked paler than snow.

"What girl?" Brass asked. "Elizabeth French?"

"No," Libby said. "The other one. Tell them about the other girl, Arnold. Where is she right now?"

"M-my basement," Blake breathed.

"Arnold, I strongly advise you to remain _silent_," the lawyer said.

"You have another girl in your _basement_?" Archie demanded. "Where? Buried under your _wine cellar_?"

"She's alive!" the senator insisted. "Maybe…"

"Maybe?" Brass asked. He pulled out his radio. "Dispatch, this is Captain Jim Brass, I need black and whites at the Arnold Blake estate. There's a girl in the basement there, probably in need of medical attention."

"Please," the senator insisted, reaching across the table to grab Archie's hands. "I'll tell you everything, just keep her _away_ from me."

Archie looked at Libby and gestured for her to go. She smiled, mysteriously, then slipped out. Arnold Blake collapsed in his chair, and fell unconscious.

* * *

><p>After the arrest, Archie went back to his lab and went through the video, trying to get a better understanding. If he looked closely, while Blake was having sex with her, he could see the revulsion in her eyes and etched in her brow. She must have hated every second of it, only tolerating it because she knew, she <em>knew<em> this would be the end of him. And she was right. Sixteen years later, she was right.

There was a knock at the door. Archie looked up and saw Greg standing there, looking impressed.

"They found the girl," Greg said. "She was tied up in his basement. Also an escort, who had gotten a little too assertive for Blake's tastes. She threatened to tell and he tied her up, used her as a sex slave for the past few days as she starved to death. If we'd gotten there even a day later, she'd probably be dead."

Archie smiled. "Maybe that explains why I got that lead now, after all these years."

"Yeah, about that…" Greg said, pulling up a chair next to Archie. "How'd it come in? And why did you get it, not a detective?"

"It was an instant message, actually," Archie explained. "I thought it was a joke at first… But I think she contacted me because she knew I'd understand Ellie." He looked at the video, which was still playing. "We had a lot in common, the least of which being our fondness for Ninja Turtles."

"How do you know your tipster was a woman, if it was in an IM?" Greg asked.

"I just do," Archie assured him.

Greg leaned back in his chair. "You think it was Maya Talbot?"

Archie was about to say no, but instead, he said, "Yeah, maybe." He looked at his computer, but saw no new messages. Nothing on his phone, either. Maybe Ellie's spirit was finally at rest.

"Why are you still watching this?" Greg asked, gesturing at the video.

Archie shrugged. "I'm not sure. Just trying to get to know her better, I guess."

"She's not exactly at her finest in this, though," Greg said.

"On the contrary," Archie returned. "I think it shows just how smart and dedicated she really was."

As Blake finished and threw some money at Ellie for a tip, he headed out the door. Ellie waited for him to leave, then ran straight to the camera. She looked right at the lens, smirked, and switched it off. The video crackled, and opened up onto something completely different. Archie's heart leapt into his throat.

It was Ellie and Maya, lying on a carpeted floor in their pajamas with spoons sticking out of their mouths as they made faces at the camera. They both burst out laughing. Ellie filmed Maya doing what seemed to be a ballet move, then stumbling, and Maya filmed Ellie on her computer, giving Maya and the camera a tour of the Internet.

"She was pretty, wasn't she?" Greg said. "Shame."

Archie realized he was seeing Elizabeth French for the first time. All other images of her had been distorted somehow. The morbid crime scene photos and the dark video had her wearing a brown wig, and the quality of the film made the comparison difficult to make for certain. But now that he saw her, in better lighting and out of costume, he could have sworn she was the spitting image of…

"Libby."

"What?" Greg asked.

"She looks _exactly_ like Libby."

Greg turned and gave him a peculiar look. "Libby who?"

Archie stopped and turned to look at Greg. "Libby," he reiterated. "You know. Early twenties, blonde, fingerprint tech?"

Greg raised an eyebrow.

Archie wouldn't relent. "Come on! She's filling in for Mandy! You _saw _her!"

"Are you sure?" Greg asked.

"You _talked_ to her…" But then, he thought back. "Wait… didn't you?"

"What's she like?" Greg asked.

"Funny…" Archie whispered. "And kind of a throw-back. She talks like Mary-Jane Watson meets Alicia Silverstone. Calls the internet 'the net,' use phrases like 'As if!' and all her pop culture references are pre-nineteen-ninety…" He trailed off, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed. "1994."

Greg shrugged. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."

"She said she spent a lot of time in her dorm on the internet in '94…"

"Well, then she can't be twenty," Greg said. "She's gotta be at _least_…"

"In her mid-thirties…" Archie mumbled.

"Yeah," Greg said. "At _least_." He looked at the video. "She must look pretty damn good for her age. You should ask her out."

Archie suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Libby since the interrogation room with Arnold Blake. He remembered the Senator's reaction.

"Wait," Archie said, laughing. "OK, you saw the interview with Blake, right?"

"Yeah," Greg said.

"You remember his reaction when he saw Libby? He freaked! Insisted I keep her away… from… him…" Greg was slowly shaking his head.

"Archie…" he began, slowly, now sounding concerned. "There was no girl in that interview room."

Archie was suddenly very cold. He looked out the window, towards the fingerprint lab, and saw Jacqui, working diligently as ever. She even looked up and waved when Mandy came in. When did Mandy get back?

"Look, I think you've been working too hard," Greg said, getting up and patting Archie on the back. "Go home, get some sleep, take it easy. You've earned it."

As Greg left, Archie came to the conclusion that he was right. It had been a very long night that had turned into a very long day, and he was more than ready to go home. As he headed down towards the garage, his phone beeped and vibrated, so he took it out of his pocket to check what it wanted. Even though his phone said he had no signal, there was a single text message in his inbox, plain as day.

_Ellie and Libby are both short for Elizabeth, you dolt. Thanks a lot, Archie. You were great._

Archie couldn't help but smile, despite the goose bumps springing up all over his skin.

**THE END**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Author's Note:<em>** So there you have it. Cheesy, and predictable from the beginning, but this IS a series based on urban legends after all, so what did you expect? This wasn't as popular as the last _Dead Man's Party_ story, but that hasn't deterred me from writing two more installments starring Catherine (_Mother Dearest_) and Grissom (_Underneath_). If interested in either of these, please drop me a line and let me know. Also, every chapter in this story was named after a movie that was released before 1995. In case you were wondering. IMDB them if you want more information.


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